


Too Late

by orphan_account



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heartbreak, Hurt No Comfort, Marriage Proposal, One Shot, One-Sided Love, Unhappy Ending, Unrequited Love, Verdant Wind Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:20:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24408700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Lorenz's plan to propose to Byleth goes awry.
Relationships: One-Sided Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/My Unit | Byleth, Sylvain Jose Gautier/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	Too Late

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry... I don't quite know why I did this... I literally love Lorenz but I bet you couldn't even tell with the way I treated him writing this...
> 
> Loosely inspired by my most recent VW playthrough, wherein I chose to S Support Sylvain over my favourite purple-haired noble.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it despite, well... everything!

The ordeal was finally over.

The great war quelled, the Agarthans vanquished, Nemesis defeated. Peace rose on the horizon, as warm and revitalising as the morning sun.

A new dawn was emerging, and yet Lorenz’s work was not done. He still had one more task to complete; perhaps the hardest one of all.

He was going to ask Byleth to be his wife.

The realisation that he was in love with his former professor came as a shock to Lorenz, during their reunion several months ago. At one time, the only constant in his life was his search for the perfect wife, and yet once he was certain who she would be, he hadn’t an idea how to move forward from there. As a result of the tumultuous times they found themselves in, his feelings would have to wait until the people of Fódlan could breathe easy.

He had been planning his proposal ever since, waiting for the right opportunity to present itself. He worked himself to the bone to improve himself and fought each battle with her future in mind. He strove to become someone who was worthy of a woman as perfect as her, someone she would be proud to marry. He retrieved a ring, a prized family heirloom from his father in the Gloucester estate, extravagant and fitting for someone so paradoxically fierce yet elegant. He spent his nights writing and rewriting speech after speech, vow after vow until he was certain he had adequately conveyed the depth of his love for her.

Everything had fallen into place. With a simple request that Byleth meets him at the Goddess Tower the morning after stopping Nemesis, Lorenz sealed his fate. Momentarily, his efforts will be realised and Byleth will learn what he had been fighting for all this time. She will agree to wear his ring and be his wife. Lorenz could hardly believe it. Sleep evaded him, the physical and mental toll of fighting a resurrected tyrant king forgotten as he buzzed with anticipation like a young child on Saint Seiros Day.

And yet, as Lorenz made the brisk steps across the bridge to the cathedral, he found the fruitless attempt at sleep did not hinder him, for he was happier and more sure of himself in this moment than he had ever been in his entire life.

It was almost dawn. The sky was a soft, pale blue and dotted by faintly pink clouds. The only sounds to be heard were the repetitive _tap-tap_ of his footsteps on the cathedral floor and the hammering of his heart against his ribcage. The calming stillness and near-silence of early morning soothed his nerves and Lorenz let himself take a deep breath, tightly gripping the small box in his trouser pocket to ground himself.

As he rounded the corner past the cathedral’s side balcony, his eyes were drawn to a mop of hair at the tower. It was shaggy, a fiery, head-turning red visible through the morning haze and belonged to someone Lorenz had bickered with countless times. Someone who, even after deciding to change his ways and be an honourable, upstanding man to all, Lorenz could not find it within himself to get along with.

Sylvain was faced away from him and wasn’t gesturing casually with his hands as much as he usually did which seemed to suggest that he was discussing something serious with whoever he was with. No matter, Lorenz would just have to politely ask them to leave. He had business there that was far too important for the intolerable man to bear witness to, or worse, completely ruin simply by being Sylvain.

The mere thought of his many months of preparation foiled by Sylvain of all people brought a grimace to Lorenz’s face. He quickened his pace, his resolve strengthening.

“I’ve spent my whole life relying on flowery language, so it’s a bit hard to reign it in,” Sylvain’s voice could be heard from above.

Lorenz clicked his tongue with disdain. _Flowery language indeed_. Language so flowery any woman Sylvain approached saw right through him, as the man had proven time and time again. But what could be meant by ‘reigning it in’? His frankly embarrassing tactics in attracting women couldn’t possibly have succeeded, could they?

“We fought hard for today, and I’m beyond happy just to be alive,” Sylvain continued from around the corner. “And now, I’m engaged to the perfect woman.”

Ah. Lorenz understood now. Sylvain had clearly stolen his proposal idea. He hadn’t a clue how that was possible, as Lorenz had kept those plans more private than his poetry collection, so the only other option was that Sylvain had had the same idea as him.

It occurred to Lorenz, as Sylvain continued chattering, that he hadn’t heard a word from the supposed third party that was there. Either Sylvain was alone and practicing his proposal by himself or the ‘perfect woman’ in question was a woman of few words.

A pit opened in Lorenz’s stomach.

_It couldn’t be…_

Sylvain had apparently finished his speech and silence settled over the tower. Silence that was warm and peaceful mere minutes ago, now cold and suffocating. Lorenz waited for someone, anyone to speak up and assure him he was imagining things until he could take it no longer.

“Apologies, Sylvain. I hope I’m not interrupting?” He stepped out from his hiding place and peered at the two figures by the balcony. The sight he saw made his heart stop.

Sylvain and Byleth, _his_ Byleth, wrapped in a tight embrace. The former looked more serious than Lorenz had ever seen him, his arms protectively enveloping the professor from behind. The latter was wide-eyed and wearing a silver ring that Lorenz most certainly hadn’t seen before. Neither of them answered him as if the scene spoke for itself.

_Certainly not…_

“My word. What is this?” Lorenz ventured, the dull reaction belying the questions, the demands flooding his brain. The panic, pulsing raw through his limbs. Surely there was an explanation, something he was missing. A horrible practical joke perhaps? Could Claude be behind this, getting revenge for those years of mistrust with this cruel jest? That wasn’t possible and Lorenz knew it but he wished it to come true nonetheless. Anything was better than the alternative.

“We’re engaged,” Sylvain said instead, knocking Lorenz’s hopes flat with a blow as sharp and devastating as his Lance of Ruin.

“A-Ah…” was all Lorenz could muster. He gaped at the ring on Byleth’s finger, eyes wide with horror. A large green gem, not unlike the one his own ring bore, nestled between a delicate, fan-like design. It was beautiful.

Engaged.

_Dear Goddess, no…_

“I see. How… unexpected. My profound congratulations,” he forced himself to say, willing with all his might to hold back the waver in his voice. He wasn’t sure if he succeeded or not.

“Newly engaged,” Byleth clarified, as though that was supposed to make this hellscape make sense. “I wasn’t expecting it either. I arrived here to wait for you but Sylvain was already here.”

Sylvain’s brows furrowed. “Wait for him? Did you have something to talk about? I’ll get out of your hair if you want. I did what I came here to do.” He smiled, self-satisfied and proud. Everything Lorenz should have been feeling in this moment.

 _Engaged_...

“No, no, do not concern yourself. My matter is of… trivial importance,” Lorenz turned away, hiding the deep dismay he could no longer mask. “I would not wish to disturb you in your happiest moments, professor.”

“It’s a bit late to be worried about that,” Lorenz could hear the cheeky smile in Sylvain’s voice. It was infuriating.

“So it would seem. If you’ll excuse me...” Lorenz made to retreat back the way he came with urgency but time seemed to slow around him as his world collapsed in on itself. He felt as if his spirit had left his body and was watching himself from afar, unaware he was running until his lungs heaved with ragged breath after breath. He was distantly aware of his legs carrying him through the monastery to the student’s quarters, his effort spent on suppressing the scream of frustration bubbling in his throat and hot tears prickling at his eyes.

The grumbling complaints of former classmates woken up by his heavy footfalls fell on deaf ears as Lorenz paced in his room. His hands fisted in his hair, blood and adrenaline pounding in his ears. He scolded himself without abandon, the despair and regret almost palpable in the air making his head spin.

_How could this have happened?_

_Was I not worthy of her?_

_I was too late._

_It wasn’t supposed to happen like this._

_I had planned it all out._

_I was too late._

_I wasn’t worthy of her._

_I’ll never be worthy of her._

_I was too late._

_My efforts, all for naught._

_I was too late…_

His younger self, the foolish, self-important boy from five years ago, would have turned back and refused to accept. He was used to the sting of rejection, had experienced it frequently from the girls at the academy. So frequently that it had eventually dwindled to nothing more than a dull, resigned pang completely unlike this sick feeling of his heart being pierced by a red, pulsing lance.

But Byleth was not a girl at the academy turning down his dinner invitation. Byleth was, has always been, so much _more_. Once Lorenz realised he was in love with her, he saw everything she had ever said to him and done for him in a new light. Byleth was the only woman who had seen his best and worst parts, praising and critiquing and inspiring him to become everything she knew he could be. She was the only woman he had ever connected with, grown close to, _loved_ …

His younger self would have done everything he could in his fight to win her over. He would have been persistent, unrelenting in making her see herself how he saw her. But that wasn’t what she would want. That wasn’t who Lorenz was anymore. Month after month of introspection and reflection, all so he could truly become the noble gentleman he thought he was. Who she knew he could become. And it was all for nothing.

Had Lorenz even improved at all? Perhaps he was once again overestimating himself and his abilities when in reality, he hadn’t changed a bit. Perhaps all that effort spent bettering himself was doomed to fail from the beginning, a colossal waste of time and energy.

_Too late, too late, too late…_

What was Lorenz supposed to do now? Too consumed with perfecting his proposal, he had failed to consider anything beyond. However, one thing was clear; he had made a big enough fool of himself already and would not allow himself to be tormented further. He would not, _could not_ , remain here any longer. The war was over and his proposal had failed before he even knew it. There was nothing left for him at Garreg Mach.

Leaving behind the meager supply of personal items he wouldn’t need anymore, Lorenz left his room for the final time. He brushed off Claude’s concerned remarks at his uneven breathing and gave an empty apology to a very grumpy Hilda for disturbing her sleep. He passed Ferdinand on his way to the stables and met his usual friendliness with a serenity that was betrayed by the shine of his eyes.

He retrieved his horse from the stable and set off for his home of Gloucester. The journey home was lonely, quiet, and allowed Lorenz time to consider his actions. He had never felt such intensity within himself, gotten swept up in the storm of his own emotions before. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to regret his display. All he could regret was his naivety in thinking he would ever be worthy of the Hero of Fódlan. Tears fell and dried and fell again. Sorrow buzzed in his head like static, a mantra repeated over and over.

_Too late, too late, too late…_

Upon returning home, he greeted Count Gloucester with a stiff bow and passed the ring, still in its box, to his father like it was a hot coal. Lorenz wouldn’t need it again for a long time. He then swiftly turned and retreated to his own estate before the Count could see his son’s face crumple with anguish.

A year later, the new Count Gloucester attended the royal wedding of Byleth Eisner, Ruler of Dawn and Sylvain Jose Gautier, knight of the highest order and current Margrave Gautier. He smiled wetly when they exchanged their vows, listened to their “ _I do”s_ and applauded, choking back a sob, when they kissed. At the following ceremony he danced with women from the academy, his eyes soft and fond but not really seeing any of them. He returned to his estate alone when the evening turned to late night. It was all he could do.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a review and help me improve! It's been a Hot Minute since I've written something substantial and I'm looking to branch out a bit :')


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